


Winging the Water Over the Rails

by hesterbyrde



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail Hobbs Lives, Beach Sex, Blow Jobs, Consensual Sex, F/M, Light BDSM, Multi, Murder Family, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, abigail is of age, but not that rough, murder!Family - Freeform, three of swords, threeofswords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:16:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: She'd gotten out on the beach late that day. Even with her eyes closed, Abigail could feel the sun already beginning to sag in the sky as the afternoon began to creep towards evening. She cast her senses to her surroundings as she wondered what the rest of the day might hold. Will had joined her in the sand some time ago, keeping a careful distance in the shade of an umbrella. She could still hear the soft whisper of turning pages as he read a book. But he was a faster reader than the sound of shifting paper belied, so she knew she was being watched. Admired. The thought made her arch a little against the towel, imagining she could hear his breath catch as he watched the slow, luxuriating roll of her body.





	Winging the Water Over the Rails

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings all!
> 
> I humbly present my offering for @hannibalcreative and @fannibalfest-toronto‘s #ThreeofSwords Valentines Day event! Just a sun-drenched smutty little Murder!Family romp on a beach somewhere in Cuba. It picks up after my Murder!Family fix it fic ”I Know My Love Loves Me,” but it’s not really necessary to have read it.
> 
> Many thanks to Kaminaduck for the beta! 
> 
> The fic title comes from the sea shanty, "Runnin' Down to Cuba."
> 
> Thank you so much for stopping by! I hope you enjoy, and happy Valentines Day!

Runnin' down with a press of sail.  
'Way me boys, to Cuba!  
Winging the water over the rails.  
Runnin' down to Cuba!

'Way me boys, to Cuba!  
Runnin' down to Cuba!

***

The beach house in Cuba was much smaller than their villa back in Tuscany, but Abigail found she preferred it. Just a few rooms with white walls edged in soft butter yellow. Everything seemed lighter somehow. And more intimate. The little house was all windows and open air unlike their hideaway in Tuscany which had felt as much a castle as it had a house. The Italian villa hadn't felt like a home to Abigail so much as a getaway, with its high walls and vacant surrounds. A sturdy, consolidating reprieve for the three of them to find themselves and each other, but ultimately not a place to stay. 

This house on the beach felt more like a home. No heavy dark wood headboards or armoires the size of semi trailers. Most of the furniture in their beach house was wicker and the linens were all shades of rich ocean blue to match the water outside. There was a harpsichord but it was also white with a charming landscape painted inside the lid featuring a heron in flight. Outside, the walls were white plaster instead of gray stone. Soft Egyptian cotton sheets covered their bed instead of heavy damask or satin. Still lifes of flowers and sketches of birds instead of dour portraits and architectural reproductions. And the arched windows with their gauzy curtains were always open to the liberating sound and smell of the ocean. 

But the sunlight. The sunlight was the same as it had been in Tuscany; bathing everything in a rich golden hue that seemed to nourish everything it touched. Including them. 

They had been there a over a month and summer didn't seem to be waning. The constant oppressively cheery weather was only occasionally punctuated by a storm that would blow in and out again with barely enough time to cool the air. Abigail would sit out in the sun almost everyday, topless more often than not, stretched out like some lazy stray cat. It was a private beach after all. No reason not to indulge. The sunlight felt like a decadence… as rich as Hannibal's cooking. Sometimes Will would accompany her, either swimming or reading or aimlessly casting a rod out into the waves, but he usually let her be. It was her own time to herself as she baked herself to a soft freckled bronze. Her hair was bleaching, she'd begun to notice, and her eyes stood out a bright icy blue in her dappled face. Her reflection in the mirror looked older. Wiser. But that wasn't due to the sun. Not entirely.

A paradise so undisturbed and tranquil didn't seem like it should be real. It was dreamlike to Abigail. All of it had been after their flight from Tuscany. After she…

No. She wouldn't think about it. She wouldn't think of how easy it had been to pull that trigger. How she might have ruined him with her hands or a paring knife or a meat cleaver if the gun hadn't been an option. She wouldn't think about it, and shoving the thought aside had gotten easier as the weeks passed. Guilt without regret was a useless emotion and she refused to indulge it. At least willingly.

She remembered how Will and Hannibal had looked at her in that moment before Will had rushed to gather her up in his arms. Her then pale face was misted with blood and her blue eyes wild. They gazed at her as if they were witnessing the Transfiguration. It was so incongruous to how she felt in that strangely suspended instant. She didn't feel glorious. She had felt terrified. All her old fears were crowding around her once again. 

This was going to be stolen from her. Will and Hannibal. All of it.

And that fear had made her a murderer. Again. A killer like her father.

But no… Hannibal had said she was nothing like her father. And her methods and reasons were hers to choose. If she felt compelled to choose at all. And what she chose, at least for now, was to believe him. 

***

She'd gotten out on the beach late that day. Even with her eyes closed, Abigail could feel the sun already beginning to sag in the sky as the afternoon began to creep towards evening. She cast her senses to her surroundings as she wondered what the rest of the day might hold. Will had joined her in the sand some time ago, keeping a careful distance in the shade of an umbrella. She could still hear the soft whisper of turning pages as he read a book. But he was a faster reader than the sound of shifting paper belied, so she knew she was being watched. Admired. The thought made her arch a little against the towel, imagining she could hear his breath catch as he watched the slow, luxuriating roll of her body.

Farther away than that, barely audible over the rustle of the surf, Abigail could hear the gentle clamor of Hannibal in the kitchen through the perennially open windows. He was fetching pots and milling through ingredients in preparation to make dinner. It would be something wonderful, she knew. And if she went to the kitchen now and rested her chin on his shoulder he might feed her a bite of something from the cutting board. She could feel the cool fabric of his shirt on her sun-drenched cheek already. And she could see the fond bend of his lips as he watched her eat from his hand. He so loved to spoil her.

But Will was nearer, and she could sense the heat in his gaze as he let her distract him from whatever he was reading. She stood, giving her hair a toss in the salty breeze, and strode across the beach to him.

"Your tan is coming along nicely." he opined when she was close enough to hear him clearly. 

"Is that what you came out here for?" she asked with a wolfish pull of her mouth. "To make sure my tan was even?"

"I came out here to read." he replied with mock indignation, made all the more ridiculously false by the way his eyes raked over her barely clothed body.

"Uh huh." she replied, kneeling and straddling him on the blanket.

Will flipped the book closed, his hands finding her waist as she lowered herself onto him. His fingers slipped in the remnants of the tanning oil she'd used as he gripped her. He let the slide of his skin over hers guide his hands up to cup her bronzed breasts with a guttural moan. He couldn't keep a soft roll out of his hips, grinding himself against her barely clothed sex. 

Will was already getting hard, she noticed. Just from watching her sunbathe. She smiled inwardly at that, with no small about of pride, as she carded her hands through the sumptuous fall of her sunkissed hair.

"Abby…" he whispered roughly staring up at her, his navy eyes gone dark with desire. 

Abigail had always hated that nickname. It had always made her feel demeaned… condescended to. Like she would never be anything but a little girl. She never let anyone call her Abby. Not even her father.

But when Will said it, she didn't feel that way. He only ever called her Abby in bed. The first time it slipped out had been when his cock was between her teeth, out on the patio of their new home. His hands in her hair. His pulse kicking against the back of her throat as he lazily thrust into the heat of her mouth. It was impossible to feel like a child with a grown man moaning your name like he's dying, no matter what name he's using.

She liked it after that.

Heat pooled low in her body as she leaned into his caresses, burning hotter than the Cuban sun could ever be. She stoked her want, lazily rubbing her sensitive flesh along the taut ridge formed by Will's trapped erection.

"You were watching me." she said, leaning over him on all fours so her breasts swayed temptingly over his face. 

He took the bait, sucking one nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it until it was a pert little nub. "Can you blame me?" he asked between gentle rakes of his teeth. "You looked so decadent all laid out on your towel. Just begging to be touched."

"Yeah?" she asked with a smile and a wicked little wrinkle of her nose. "What did you want to do to me?"

Will's breath was beginning to become labored as the serpentine drag of her hips continued. "I would have loved to have eaten you out." he said, arching up as she rewarded him with a particularly long roll of her body. "Licked you out all sweet and slow how I know you like."

"And then…?" she prompted, digging one hand under his waistband to free his cock to the caress of the warm breeze. He was rock hard and already leaking against her palm as she stroked him.

"I… I would have begged for your permission to fuck you."

"Begged?" she asked, rubbing his cockhead along her bikini so that he could feel how wet she was in turn.

Will made a high pitched whimpering sound as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. "Begged." he confirmed in a ragged voice.

"How would you do it?" she asked, using her other hand to push her bikini bottom to the side. "After you'd eaten me out until I was moaning your name for anyone walking down the beach to hear."

"Gently." the word was a barely audible whisper against the backdrop of the pounding surf. All his breath was stolen as she dragged his cockhead through the slick that was nearly dripping from her pussy. "So gently. Ah Abby, you should let me-"

He went to stop her as she lined his cock up with the inviting entrance of her body, but couldn't bring himself to as she drove herself down onto him in a single thrust. She winced at the now rapidly fading sting, already a distant annoyance in comparison to the heavy and familiar fullness of having Will inside her. 

He gave an abrupt shout at the sensation of her body enveloping him, unable to repress the sound or the accompanying cant of his hips, driving himself deeper into the tight heat of her pussy.

"Keep talking." she coaxed.

"You… you should have let me take care of you first." His hand was over his eyes for a moment as he wrestled for a modicum of composure.

"You should've come over and eaten me out when you had the chance." she teased, grinding her hips against him in a rhythmic rocking motion.

Will was overcome with the sensation. "I don't ever want to hurt you Abby." he managed to choke out between ragged gasps. She was so tight like this. So tight that it scared him. 

"This doesn't hurt." She whispered, picking up the pace. The roll in her hips began to speed up as she drove him deep inside of her . "This is exactly what I want. Exactly…" her voice was turning hazy as she abandoned herself to the sensation.

"Let me make this good for you." he said, pulling her up and over him so that he could thrust in earnest. He knew just the way she liked it from this angle, tilting their bodies so that his cockhead was slipping over that spot deep inside her that would make her come apart.

He broke out in a sweat doing this, she noticed through the haze of her mounting ecstasy. He was working so hard to pleasure her and to keep himself from coming. On the one hand it painted a pretty picture. Him biting his lips until they were red and puffy and kneading his hands in the soft curves of her flesh as he held her stable for his shallow, gentle thrusts. But she felt strangely guilty. Part of her wanted him to just take from her. He never did that. It was always about her.

But right now, those thoughts were distant static behind the white hot arcs of pleasure zinging out through her body. He'd found one of her nipples with his teeth again, worrying at it as he rocked her over him. It wasn't long before she came, shamelessly reveling in the attention as she moaned his name.

He followed a moment later, another hoarse shout as he pushed himself all the way inside her again. He held her there with trembling arms, as if he could will the moment to last even a second longer.

Abigail collapsed next to him on the padded beach blanket breathing hard, though not as hard as he was. She may have been on top, but he had ended up doing all the work. Between the drying sweat and suntan oil, they were both a slippery mess as they lay puddled together, watching the sun edge closer to the horizon. Not yet truly setting, but sliding further and further from its more glorious afternoon perch.

Abigail looked up at him, her blue-green eyes cast gray in the dying light. "I can't believe you almost gave this up."

Will was silent for a long time, time only kept by the steady thrum of the waves. "I didn't know what I was giving up." he said finally, burying his nose in her hair.

She turned and kissed him, sucking and nibbling at his swollen lips as if she might eat him from the mouth down. His stomach seemed to growl at the notion.

"Come on." he said between kisses as he mussed her hair between his hands. "We should shower before dinner. I imagine Hannibal has already gotten started and we wouldn't want to be late to the table."

Abigail made a disgruntled sound low in her throat, much like she did when she didn't want to get out of bed in the morning. But she let him haul her to her feet and helped him gather up his blanket and umbrella, along with her towel as well. 

While Will went to put away their beach things and start the shower water, Abigail took a detour through the kitchen. Hannibal was still at the cutting board, a picture of professional culinary elegance in his white shirt and apron. Abigail licked her lips not at the sight of the food he was preparing, but at the way the tendons in his arms stood out under his smooth skin. Hannibal in turn took in the sight of her topless and sundrenched with little overt expression. But Abigail's practiced eye could see the slight flare of his nostrils at the sight of her. Clearly scenting for the expensive suntan oil she'd slathered herself with. And probably detecting the scent of the interlude she'd had with Will as well.

But even as he admired her, he didn't stop chopping. His cutting board was covered with neatly chopped, brightly colored vegetables. Peppers, onions, and a few things she couldn't identify now that they weren't whole. She swayed over to him, resting her cheek on the cool linen of his shirt and feeling him incline his head to rest on hers. 

He offered her a bite of mango from the pile on the far right but she wrinkled her nose. 

"I'm not a fan honestly." she said with a twinge of regret.

Completely unperturbed, he offered her a bite of the pepper he was chopping instead. She ate it directly from the edge of the knife, staring up at him while she did so. He didn't smile at the sight, but his dark eyes crinkled at the edges with a deeply welling fondness. 

Upstairs, she heard the rush of water through the pipes. 

"I'm going to go have a shower." she said, raising on tiptoes to kiss Hannibal on the cheek as he resumed chopping after wiping the knife down on his apron. "How long until dinner?"

"An hour? Maybe a bit more." He turned and kissed her properly, a brief but sweet press of his capacious lips against hers.

"Alright." she said, stealing another bite of pepper from the board before disappearing upstairs.

***

There had been no mango served with anything at dinner, and Abigail felt endlessly guilty. Hannibal had made no mention of it, and so neither did she, but she recognized the absence all the same. He was like this with her though. Deferential almost to a fault. Curating her world to be full of comforts and kindness and a soft sort of beauty. Gone was every hard edge to her existence, replaced with everything that had been absent in her life with her father. She was allowed to be sweet and girlish if she so chose, dressed in frothy pastels instead of the solemn palette of camouflage she'd been kept in most of her young adult life.

Like with Will calling her "Abby" it didn't feel demeaning. She didn't feel lessened by the attention he paid to her preferences. It wasn't as if he needed to protect her from something. It simply gave him pleasure to see her happy and comfortable. And if that meant striking mango from the menu for dinner tonight, then so be it, apparently.

Abigail liked it in a strange way, if she was being honest. They both spoiled her in their own ways. Will with his ease of physical connection. Always playing with her hair or serenely caressing her. And Hannibal with his doting affection. Unending gifts, and stories, and lessons about anything she ever cared to ask about. She felt so unaccountably loved.

But she was finding herself wondering if they did too. From her at least. She felt… not lessened but still small, cocooned as she was in their unending affection. She was never sure if she was adequately expressing it in return. What could she do for them that they couldn't do for themselves? Or each other? It was a hollow, wanting sort of helplessness.

These thoughts were still running through her head as she stood in their bedroom doorway, having just brushed her teeth and hair. Hannibal and Will were already tucked between the ridiculously smooth sheets, Will pillowing his head on Hannibal's chest. Hannibal was reading a book of poetry that Will was only half paying attention to as he combed his fingers through the ruff of fur covering Hannibal's chest. They made such a pretty picture like that. Complete in their contentment with each other. It made the doubt and the guilt gnaw that much more.

Will saw her paused at the door, her freckled face knit with a tight frown as she thought.

"What's wrong, Abigail?" he asked, cocking his head.

She took a deep breath, her mouth working around the words forming in her head as if to taste them before speaking aloud.

"I feel selfish." she said at last. It was perhaps not the most delicate or eloquent way to state it. Hannibal could certainly do better. But it was the truth, if a little brief and simplistic.

Will's expression came to mimic her own, his brows crowding down around his deep blue eyes. Her answer even got Hannibal's attention away from whatever dusty poet he'd been entertaining.

She felt small again, with their attention focused on her. It wasn't their fault, she knew, and so she pressed herself to continue. "You both do so much to take care of me. I mean… you do more than take care of me. You down right spoil me. And…" she sighed, worrying at a cuticle with her other hand. "I don't know… I've just started to wonder, I guess. Do you get anything out of it? Out of having me around? I mean you both have had careers and lives and I just… I'm just a girl? You know? I'm just-"

"Abigail…" Will was almost out of bed before she stopped him with a raised hand. She slipped her bathrobe from her shoulders so she was just wearing one of Will's old t-shirts and her underwear, and piled onto the bed. Hannibal had set his book aside and opened his free arm to draw her into the circle of their embrace.

"I just… I want to be able to indulge you the way you indulge me." she said, allowing Hannibal to pull her close, but keeping enough distance that she could still see their faces. "And you both spoil me rotten, and I feel like I can't do anything but just… I don't know. Be a sponge?"

"I like seeing you happy." Hannibal said, one hand finding its way under the hem of her shirt to caress her bare skin. 

"Ditto." Will replied, reaching across Hannibal's chest to caress Abigail's shoulder through the thin cotton.

"I want to make you happy though. Both of you. Like… actively." she sighed, rubbing her cheek against Hannibal's chest hair like a cat. "I want to make you both happy. And don't say that I already do."

Hannibal did that little thoughtful pouty thing with his lips that never failed to make Abigail want to kiss him. Or to put it more exactly, it made her want to practically eat the expression off his face. But she refrained, waiting for him to speak as he was clearly and carefully parsing through her response.

"Perhaps what you are seeking is a more concrete effort on your part?" he postulated. "A specific action that you do not necessarily benefit from?"

"That's… a lot of words. But yeah, I guess that's what I'm trying to say." she replied, propping her head up on her elbow.

Hannibal did it again, that soft pout, as he keenly peered down at Abigail. She could practically hear the gears turning in his magnificent mind. "Tell me something, Will." he said, inclining his head slightly as he kept his attention fixed on Abigail.

"Hmm?" Will turned and rested his chin on Hannibal's chest, looking up at him with soft, puppy-like eyes as he waited for the coming question.

"If you could have this darling creature any way you pleased," he skated his fingertips along her flank making her shiver. "What would you want? How would you take her?"

Will looked across at Abigail, a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as all sorts of filthy thoughts slid across his eyes. Abigail blushed at the attention, her cheeks staining a lovely rosy hue under her freckles. "I would want her on her hands and knees." he said, his voice turning dark and rough. She could see him picturing it. "With her back arched so I could take her at my own pace."

"She makes a pretty picture like that." Hannibal agreed, looking down at her his hand still skating up and down her side.

"How do you like her best?" Will asked, turning his wicked smirk up to Hannibal.

"Hmm… so many possibilities. It's like asking my favorite food." he smiled at her, lips still veiling his teeth, but he looked no less dangerous. She couldn't help biting her lip as she watched him consider his options. "I love your mouth on me." he finally answered, with a fond and focused squint, bringing his hand up to cup her jaw, his thumb skating over her bronzed cheek. "You're so earnest when you take me in that way. So eager to please."

She involuntarily licked her lips, already feeling his cockhead sliding across her tongue. "Do you want that?" she asked, not trying in the slightest to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

He smiled, still no teeth, but his eyes had gone dark and hungry as he regarded her. "I do."

Abigail started to shimmy down the bed, her fingers already in the waistband of Hannibal's underwear when he grabbed her wrist. "No, darling. I believe Will is owed something as well. Hands and knees, if you please."

She felt her breath hitch at the force of his tone. It wasn't a sharpness or anything that inspired fear. It simply was a tone that brooked no argument. A statement, rather than a request. And she could already imagine the scene, both of them pleasuring themselves with her. No thought for her… just enjoying themselves. Would they do it? Would they actually take advantage of her? She felt a fine tremor course through her body as she did what she was told, hopeful that they would.

"Should I take the shirt off?" she asked, looking to both of them.

Hannibal glanced down at Will. "What do you think, Will?"

"Leave it on." he answered, rather quickly. 

Hannibal's smile grew teeth then as he considered the implications. Half clothed and caught between them. Bereft of her more direct physical charms but enticing in other ways...

Abigail divested herself of her underwear and pulled herself astride Hannibal's legs.

"Tell me again, love." Hannibal murmured as he pushed her hair out of her eyes. "What do you want?"

"I want…" she paused to lick her lips. "I want you to enjoy yourselves with me. I… I don't want you to hurt me exactly? It's not like that but… I don't want you to be as concerned about me as you usually are."

"You want us to pleasure ourselves at your expense." Hannibal supplied. 

"Yes… yes that." she gave a shaky nod.

"Very well. Whenever you're ready to begin."

She licked her lips again as she pulled the waistband of Hannibal's underwear down to reveal his cock. He wasn't hard yet, but it was filling out nicely and Abigail was happy to encourage the process. Without preamble she sucked him down to the root, reveling in the feel of the hair on the soft mound of his belly tickling her nose. She could take all of him with ease like this and she smiled around his shaft as she felt him jump as the heat of her mouth enveloped him. His hand came up to cup the back of her neck, holding her there for a moment as he pulled in a ragged gasp. A long moment. She swallowed twice before he let her go.

She slid him over her tongue, swirling the tip around the head before pulling him all the way back into her mouth again. She wasn't sucking yet. Just lazily dragging him between her lips. Getting him hard. Getting him worked up. She loved to see Hannibal lose his composure. He was already beginning to fray at the seams.

"She's all yours Will." she heard Hannibal say, his accent laying thickly on his words as he watched her work him.

Abigail felt the bed dip and shift as Will moved around behind her. He removed his own underwear and she could feel him pumping his cock in one hand as the other slid down the curve of her ass. His thumb found the plush, rosy lips of her pussy, still swollen from their interlude earlier that day. He worked the moisture he found there back and forth over her clit.

Abigail moaned around Hannibal's cock, her brow pinching. Was Will teasing her? She started to pull off, to tell him to stop screwing around, but Hannibal's hand in her hair froze her where she was. She swallowed again, gratefully returning to the task at hand.

"Will? Remember she asked for this." Hannibal advised, sensing what was going through Abigail's head. "Fuck the poor girl before she gets any ideas about taking her mouth off my cock."

Abigail made a guttural sound in her throat as Hannibal pronounced the word "fuck." Something about the way his accent wrapped around the word made her want to come right then and there. She felt Will lining himself up behind her and she braced as he pushed in abruptly. 

The memory of their earlier adventures out on the beach returned to Will as he sank into the velvet heat of her body. She was tighter than before. Swollen and slick from the unprepared fucking he'd given her out on the beach. He wanted to feel guilty, but he saw the arch of her spine as he entered her. How she practically presented herself to him rather than shying away from any discomfort he might have been causing her. The sight was all the more tantalizing for the fact that her body was veiled in his thin t-shirt; the beautiful bend of her back a thing to be felt with his hands more than seen with the eyes.

Abigail went lax after that, holding herself up on her elbows and letting the two men set the pace together. She was just present as they worked themselves with her. Not quite an object, but most definitely someone who was only a means to an end in that moment. She listened to the sounds… the muffled slap of flesh on flesh mixed with the sloppy sounds of their cocks sliding in and out of the warm, wet places she was providing them with. Neither of them was in a hurry and neither was she. But they were far from being deferential. They were giving her what she wanted by taking what they wanted. This was about them.

And in truth it was about her too, she realized as she kneeled there, stuck between them. They wanted her. She made them happy. Not just because she was a warm, pliant body for them to pleasure themselves with. But for right now, that's what their happiness was representing. A sweetly savored moment of shared pleasure in the hallowed dark of their Cuban sanctuary.

Will was the first to lose his composure. His hips began to snap forward in a stuttering rhythm as he pushed the t-shirt up over her hips to watch himself disappear into the clutch of her body. She took him in so greedily and so deep… squeezing and clutching at his length. He was certain if he stopped he would feel her pulse throbbing around him. But he didn't want to stop.

"Abby…" he groaned, letting his head fall back as he pistoned into her. "Abby…" He drew out her name into a reedy moan before pulling her back sharply onto his cock and spilling himself inside her.

When Will had fallen panting to the mattress beside them, Abigail began to work Hannibal in earnest. She hollowed her cheeks and curled her tongue along the underside of Hannibal's cock in a way she knew always drove him mad. But he didn't fall for it this time. He let her go at it for a time, but after a few moments, when Will had caught his breath, he tightened his hand in her hair and pulled her off. His cock fell from her lips with a filthy, wet sound and she looked up at him with a confused expression.

"I believe I've changed my mind." he said, skating his thumb along her jawline. "Arrange yourself on your back if you would. Will, do me a favor, please?"

"Anything." Will responded hazily, after swallowing hard to wet his mouth.

"Hold her against you, please." he instructed, helping Abigail to place herself half across Will's chest.

Abigail's breath caught as she felt Will's fingers, still impossibly strong from sailing their little boat across the Atlantic, encircling her wrists. He trapped one arm under his as he pulled her tightly against his body so that she couldn't move without a serious struggle. She twisted in his grip for a moment, if only to feel the resistance.

"I decided I didn't want Will to have this all to himself." Hannibal said, leaning in to kiss her, licking the taste of himself from her mouth. "He's greedy like that you know."

All Abigail could do was moan as Hannibal pushed up the hem of her t-shirt and parted her legs. His cock slid in without difficulty, her body swallowing him up with ease. 

"You did give her a rough ride this afternoon, didn't you Will?" Hannibal teased him, leaning over Abigail's shoulder to steal a kiss from Will's parted mouth. "She's so tight and swollen."

"That's how she wanted it." Will rumbled, turning to lay a trail of kisses along Abigail's neck. "Impatient to get my dick in her." It was uttered in a tone that was affectionate in a way that bordered on pride.

Abigail felt her cheeks burning with delightful shame. And a little pride of her own.

"I like her like this." Hannibal mused, thrusting into her with a slow languid rhythm that made Abigail's insides begin to coil and writhe. "Used and desperate for more."

A wordless moan escaped Abigail's throat at that. His tone… his words… The fact that she was still half dressed… a mere plaything for them. It made her feel debauched and desired in exactly the way she wanted to be. Heat was building low in her pelvis as she weakly attempted to get free, more to feel Will hold her than any actual desire to rebel. And he held her fast, his knuckles standing out white under his skin as he scraped his teeth along the line of her neck.

She tensed at the sensation, her orgasm unexpectedly punching up through her gut and erupting into a scream. Heat rippled out under her skin as Hannibal continued thrusting, watching her fall apart with blithe detachment, much as he might watch a prima at the ballet. Her pleasure gave him pleasure in turn.

"Oh Abigail… you are a work of art." He whispered before redoubling his efforts. He thrust into her oversensitive pussy as she shivered in Will's grip. He pounded into her a handful of times before his hips lost rhythm and he was coming inside of her with sharp, animalistic grunts, his fingers gripping her hips until she was certain she would have bruises.

Bruises she would treasure for days to come. She could already see herself in the bathroom mirror, pressing on them with her fingers to remind her of how it felt to be held in place so that Hannibal might enjoy her. It felt incongruously powerful. This might be something they needed to explore in the future...

The three of them collapsed together into a sweaty, sticky pile. Everyone was breathing hard this time, but they were also smiling as the post-coital haze drifted over them. After a moment, Hannibal stepped away to the bathroom and returned with some damp towels to gently wipe each of them down. They were cast to the floor once used to be dealt with in the morning as he piled back into bed

"Was that what you had in mind, Abigail?" Hannibal asked pulling her up onto his chest. Will had spooned up behind her, both their arms falling across his ribs as he snugged the sheet around the three of them.

"I think so." she said, her voice a little dreamy. "I didn't have anything specific in mind… though it appears when it comes to what you'd like me to do in bed, you two certainly have some ideas that you haven't exactly shared before."

"There's more where that came from." Will replied, his voice muffled by the abstract collection of kisses he was leaving on her shoulders where the collar of the oversized shirt had gaped open. More than once Abigail thought he might be trying to eat the freckles from her skin since the kisses contained as much teeth and tongue as lips.

"I'm always open to suggestions." she said with a serene, sated smile as she buried her face in Hannibal's neck.

"As are we, darling girl. As are we." Hannibal replied, nuzzling the part of her hair. He could still smell the faint scent of her tanning oil even through the smell of their recent indulgence.

"I love you both." she whispered, her words a little slurred as sleep was beginning to drift closer the longer she laid cocooned between them.

"You are so loved, dear one." Hannibal replied, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head. "Don't ever doubt it."

Will's only reply was a drowsy kiss on the cheek before he flopped down onto the pillow began snoring softly behind her.

***


End file.
